Poem - End Of The Earth

You sang as you sat

on the dusty red carpet 

by your side of my bed

The music you played,

It spread and misled,

and yet I could hear 

the promise you made:

"I'll love you,

my dear,

'till the end of the earth."

But your world was so small

and the end was, in fact,

less far than we thought:

A bus and a train, an hour or so,

that's how long it took 

to gather your thoughts.

The river your crossed,

to take yourself out

of the life I rearranged 

to make room for us.

Elsewhere on this earth, 

Below southern skies

A man bleeds and burns.

Without fear, he cries:

"How fast did it travel,

this bullet you shot?

How small, oh, how small
Is this blighted earth?"